Musical instrument sculptures adorn the walls of the eatery. The Chop Bar in Oakland features a large airy dining area with a rounded bar near the kitchen.Musical instrument sculptures adorn the walls of the eatery. The Chop Bar in Oakland features a large airy dining area with a rounded bar near the kitchen.

A fair amount has been written lately about the restaurant renaissance in Oakland. A new breed of chefs has garnered attention as much for their menus as their decision to open their doors in a city long overshadowed by San Francisco.

Along the way, a subtle byproduct has emerged from this East Bay culinary movement: an approach to restaurant interiors that is distinctly its own.

"It's about being resourceful, but not necessarily cheap," says Chad DeWitt, who is redesigning a Jack London restaurant space. "We're after the good stuff, but willing to hunt for it. And it's OK if things are a little banged up, because it adds character."

The "scrappy" style is reminiscent of the city's working-class history and is rooted in preserving what is already there, DeWitt says.

Chef Charlie Hallowell, in his restaurant follow-up to Pizzaiolo, even kept the name of a former tenant: Boot and Shoe Service. The rusty old signs that identify the restaurant are a holdover from a shoe repair shop.

"There's a tendency for the newer restaurants to embrace the architecture of the building the restaurants inhabit," says Laura Martin Bovard, the interior designer behind Wood Tavern on College Avenue. "These restaurants are all built in brick buildings with exposed beams and brick and almost always highlight local artists and incorporate Edison industrial light fixtures."

In 2001, Tanya Holland arrived in the Bay Area from Brooklyn, where witnessing the borough's reincarnation inspired her to set up shop in an underdeveloped area. Two years ago, she opened Brown Sugar Kitchen in West Oakland. Holland made few changes to the space, previously a diner.

"All I did was paint the exterior and interior," she recalls. "I really worked with what was here and what was affordable." The chef did invest in photography by Amanda Williams that depicts local scenes. "They capture what is sweet about Oakland," Holland explains. "They're about embracing the neighborhood."

When Chez Panisse alum Russell Moore and his wife, Allison Hopelain, set out to start Camino - Italian for fireplace - they knew their restaurant would center on hearth cooking. After a three-year hunt that started in San Francisco, they settled on a vacant furniture store on Oakland's Grand Avenue. With the single-story brick structure, there were no venting issues or other tenants to worry about.

"We didn't do a lot besides add the kitchen," said Hopelain. With brick walls and skylights already there, "we didn't have to change the space to make it charming," she says.

At Camino, the walls are free of artwork. And, while the massive limestone and brick fireplace built by Pascal Faivre serves a primarily functional purpose, it's also one of the few design elements in the restaurant. Others include local touches such as the iron chandeliers by Oakland blacksmith John Sarriugarte; natural clay plaster finish on one wall was hand-troweled by Jeremy Fisher, Kevin Rowell and Marisha Farnsworth.

Camino's 30-foot tables were constructed from fallen trees; Evan Shively salvaged the wood, and Anthony Marschak and Jeff Burwell built the tables. The budget didn't allow for custom seating, so Hopelain searched eBay, which yielded chairs and benches from an old church.

At Jack London Square, Lev Delany, Chris Pastena and Jesse Branstetter went the DIY route at Chop Bar, enlisting friends and tackling projects themselves. "We didn't really have an option," said Delany. "We just didn't have the money."

The restaurant's most notable feature is a wall of wood planks reclaimed from a barn (built by pal Jeffrey Ruiz), accented with bronze musical instrument sculptures (by John Branstetter, Jesse's father). Envisioned as a neighborhood spot, its name derives from the roadside bars-restaurants that also serve as community hangouts in West Africa.

"By keeping things sparse, a lot of the restaurants in Oakland feel like they've always been around - like they're really a part of the neighborhood," she says. "It's that feeling that keeps me coming back.

According to Clark Wolf, a food and restaurant consultant, restaurant designs either "make you feel like you're really there - where the restaurant is located - or transport you to another place."

In the case of establishments cropping up in Oakland, the former has prevailed. "People dining in Oakland don't want to feel like they're in the big city. "The restaurants in Oakland feel more like being in someone's kitchen - delightfully so," he says.

"Oakland has something special to offer. I don't care what Gertrude Stein said. There is a there there."